TOXIC IN HIS TOUCH

Lipsticks and libraries

The car still hummed with leftover heat from their earlier moment, and yet the air between them had shifted-not colder, not awkward, but strangely warmer. Kriti leaned back in her seat, fixing her lipstick in the mirror while Arjun watched from the driver's side, still breathless from everything that had happened.

"You're seriously touching up your lipstick right now?" he teased, half-laughing.

"Well, someone just tried to ruin it," she shot back, smoothing the color with slow precision.

"Ruin it? I think I improved it."

"Oh, really?" She raised a brow.

And before he could respond, Kriti leaned over and kissed his cheek, deliberately smudging her freshly applied lipstick. Then the other cheek. Then his forehead. Finally, right at the tip of his nose.

Arjun blinked. "Kriti"

"What? You said you missed it. Here, have it in bulk."

She snapped a photo with her phone while he stared at her, face now covered in lipstick marks, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You are impossible."

"And you're a terrible liar if you say you didn't love that."

He rolled his eyes but didn't wipe his face, secretly loving the chaos she painted onto him.

As they drove toward her house, a comfortable silence settled between them. Music hummed quietly from the radio, her window half-down as the warm evening breeze played with her hair. The streetlight flickered golden as they turned into her lane.

He parked slowly. She unbuckled her seatbelt but lingered, hand resting on the door.

"Thanks for... today," she said softly, voice quieter than before.

Arjun glanced over, eyes sharp but unreadable.

"I already miss kissing you," he said simply.

She didn't respond. Just smiled that tiny, dangerous kind that always made him want to unravel her all over again.

Then she stepped out of the car, the night wrapping around her like velvet.

The next day was almost jarring in how normal it felt.

No cryptic texts. No stolen kisses. No tension brewing loud enough for the group to notice.

They passed in the hallway between classes. Arjun nodded once, no smirk, no raised brow. Just acknowledgment. As if the night before hadn't happened, or maybe as if it meant too much to put into passing glances.

Kriti found herself hyper-aware of him. The way he laughed at something in the courtyard. The way his fingers tapped absently on his notebook. The way he never quite looked at her for too long when others were around.

It wasn't avoidance.

It was something quieter.

That evening in the library, everything cracked slightly open again.

Their names were called as partners for the mid-term project. Kriti had barely processed it when Arjun leaned over her shoulder.

"We work well together," he said.

She gave a noncommittal shrug, though her heart thudded in her chest.

They picked a table in the far corner of the library. Books scattered between them, pens tapping, laptops open. Occasionally, their knees brushed beneath the desk. Her fingers accidentally touched his when she handed over a notebook.

Neither moved away.

Neither said a word.

At one point, he looked up, caught her watching him. She didn't look away this time.

Later, as they packed up, Arjun offered to walk her home.

The sky outside had slipped into pastels, that golden kind of silence that only comes in the lull between chaos and stars.

"You confuse me," she admitted suddenly, her voice cutting through the calm as they walked slowly past the old tea stall. He looked over at her, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"That makes two of us."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Just let the quiet settle again. Then, as they reached her gate, he reached for her hand.

No words. No rush.

Just fingers intertwining with hers. She looked up, surprised at how natural it felt. Arjun leaned in, brushing his forehead softly against hers. Not a kiss, Not a tease, Just a moment.

"See you tomorrow," he whispered.

And when he walked away, Kriti stood at her gate a little longer than she needed to. Because in all the stillness, her world had just shifted. And somewhere deep inside Arjun Bajwa, he knew, This wasn't just desire anymore, It was the beginning of something real.

To be continued